The Song of a Crow
by kolxhero-0
Summary: It was the winter after my twenty third birthday. I was without family, a home, and living on the cold streets of London. How I had gotten to be in such a state was a mystery even to myself. My birthplace was Lithuania, but, I had no desire to return nor the funds to do so. I had seen an ad in the post for house keepers wanted in America and was fast to respond. USxLith
1. Chapter 1

It was the winter after my twenty third birthday. I was without family, a home, and living on the cold streets of London. How I had gotten to be in such a state was a mystery even to myself. My birthplace was Lithuania, but, I had no desire to return nor the funds to do so. I had seen an ad in the post for house keepers wanted in America and was fast to respond. It was not long before I was on the ship to the new world.

Next to me sat Arthur, my escort. A short tempered author from Britain. He was slightly taller than myself with hair that resembled a mound of straw that had been dried in the sun. His legs were crossed with a novel held level to his emerald eyes. He turned the pages slowly in a deep trance of his own work. We both had not spoken a word after our greeting in London. What was I to say? Make petty conversation with a man I barely knew? The silence was killing me. I shifted my gaze to the window. It was a cold December day. My breath fogged the glass, quickly, I used my sleeve wipe it away.

"Please do not leave smudges."

I snapped my hand away to rest on my thigh.

"I am sorry Mr. Kirkland."

"Come now, do not be nervous." The man leaned in to fix my tie. He smelled strongly of of rum and a musky colon. "Especially not because of ,_that_, person."

"Are you close?" Asked I.

"Yes. Unfortunately, I know him far too well."

The horse drawn carriage made its way up the long narrow drive. A large mansion surrounded by woods sat at the top of the hill. From the village only the smoke from the chimney could be seen, but, nearing closer I could make out the massive stone pillars that ran the length of the building.

"How many work for the master?"

"Just you, for now."

My eyes went wide. Cleaning such a place would be far too much for just one person.

"Is he new to this residence?"

"No. He grew up here." Said Arthur, placing his book into his leather travel bag. "After his parents died, he inherited the estate and the families fortune. His cousin is his only blood relative still living. He owns the book shop in town."

"That sounds very lonely to live in such a place by yourself."

"Hmph, he is hardly _alone._" The man snorted. "He likes to have overnight guests. The prostitutes seem to flock to him, like that of bees to honey."

"So he is that type."

"Yes, well, he has trouble making real friends. People only seem to come around when they need money. He often gets played as a sucker, so, he has come to be less trusting."

"I see."

We pulled up to the front steps and I gathered my bags. Arthur led me up to the door. He pulled the doorbell and we waited for it to be answered. It did not take much time, before the doors were eagerly opened. A tall young man exited, he smiled. His eyes were the brightest of blue I had ever seen.

"Brother!" Exclaimed the brassy haired man, he embraced Mr. Kirkland. "It has been awhile."

"Brother?" I questioned, examining the youth.

"Alfred, would you please try to use some restriant?" Arthur shoved the man off. "Another thing, why is it you dress like a field worker?"

I could hardly believe this man could be the master of such a house. His dress did not suggest he was the ere of billions, not at the least. He wore an oversized white blouse, stained and torn.

"Where is the maid?" Asked the young master.

"This is Mr. Toris Laurinaitis, he will be your housekeeper." Arthur introduced. "Mr. Laurinaitis, this is Alfred Fredrick Jones, master of _Abigail May Manor._"

"This is a man." Said Mr. Jones blunt.

"Excellent deduction."

"I wanted a lady." He whined. "What can I do with a man?"

"Too bad." Said Kirkland, pushing the master aside and entering. "Come Mr. Laurinaitis, I will show you to your room." He tugged me along, up the staircase. The mansion was exquisite, but, I could see the neglect. "You will be in the flower room. It is only a short distance from the master bedroom." He pushed open a door to my left. A cloud of dust uplifted into the air. I covered my nose as not to sneeze.

The room was of decent size and despite the filth, it contained a nice selection of furniture. A desk sat under the window, along with a dresser and closet on the far side. I sat my things on the large bed, that looked as if a child had fixed it. The walls were decorated tastefully with a simular pattern as the untidy bed spread.

"Alfred, you were told to straighten this room before we arrived!" Called Arthur out the door. There came a cackle of queer laughter. "I swear, that man child will one day strike an ill cord."

"The master called you brother?" I pried, not that it was any of my business.

"Yes, well, Alfred grew up an only child. His father was my mentor and let me stay in the manor as he teached. Often, I watched Alfred while his parents were away or entertaining." He explained. "His father was a brilliant man and I owe him more than I could ever give. I began to look after Alfred when he and his wife passed on, it was the least I could do to repay them."

"You have a good heart Mr. Kirkland." Said I.

"Yes, thank you, but some days I regret my decision." Arthur looked to the open door, the young master was leaning against the frame. "I must be going. I have to stop by to see your cousin for a new quill."

"You are not leaving without him." The master sniffed. "I will make his life hell if you refuse to take him back from where he came."

"If you do, I will never come visit you again. I will disappear from your life, forever." Kirkland's tone was nothing short of serious. "Do you understand me?"

"You are lying!"

"Dare to test me?"

Silence.

"Now, truly, I must go. I will make another visit before I go back to England. Good luck Mr. Laurinaitis, you shall be needing it." Arthur bowed, then showed himself out leaving Alfred and myself in an awkward stance. He was glaring at me un-reluctantly.

"Mr. Jones, it is a pleasure to be working for you. I am hoping we become good friends." I said.

"You are here as a servant, not for us to be friends." He walked up to me. His frame was much more built than my own. "In my house, you are to refer to me as Master and I can call you whatever I please, dunce. You are to make my meals, dress me, run my bath, clean the mansion in its entirely, take care of the stables, the yard, and make runs to town when I say. Never will you question me nor my authority. The woods are strictly forbidden and you are not to venture outside after dark, is this understood?"

"Yes Master."

"Now, weeble, if you are to be my maid, wear the proper clothing." He smiled and made a gesture with his head to the wardrobe. I went to open it, where I found a black and white housekeepers dress. I glanced back at him in disbelief. "Do not question, do as I say." He said, laughing.

"Shall I dress in front of you, Master?" I asked with the slightest bit of sarcasm lingering on my tongue.

His eyes narrowed. I had angered him, but, he smiled.

"Let us have you strip down to nothing and have you work the garden, in the nude."

My body went stiff. It was near the edge of snowing.

"Master, I apologize for my rudeness. Please, the weather is far too harsh for me to preform such a task." I pleaded, wishing I would have held back my comment prior. The young master's eyes held no pity.

"I have given my orders." He said, lacing his fingers behind himself. His stride was swift to the dresser and his gaze traced along the still water of the pearly white basin bowl. "If you cannot do as I say, you may resign. There is no usefulness in a pawn that decides its own placement."

Silent, I undressed. My discomfort was apparent on my face. I stood there, naked. Scars of old discolored wounds etched deep into my bare tanned skin. Light pink and some raised, making my flesh bumpy to the touch. Not an inch of my back was without a mark. Like this, I could not hid. I shut my eyes, hoping I would somehow disappear from the room.

I could feel his eyes on me now. Skimming over my disfigured self. The helplessness I felt was overwhelming. My mouth tasted of iron, it watered. I felt sick, as though I would vomit at any moment. _"Stop looking,"_ my brain screamed. _"Please, do not look."_

The warmth of a hand on my back gave me goose bumps. It did not hurt, but, the flawed skin was tender.

"Sorry, did I harm you?" Croaked the man, pulling it away. He looked different from before. A sincere look was upon his face as he swallowed. It reminded me of a child who had broken its mother's favorite vase, or something of the sort.

I shook my head.

"N-no! I. . .you, just startled me." I stumbled over my words, like an idiot. "Master."

Those blue glassy eyes met mine. They were filled with such deep sadness it took my breath. I no longer cared about him seeing, only, that he would no longer look at me in such a way.

"Dress as you wish." His voice was soft, I barely heard him. "I am sure you tired from your trip, rest. Do not worry about your chores for today. You will begin tomorrow, when the day becomes anew." He darted his eyes away and went for the hall.

"Ma-" I began, but, the door was shut behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

When I awoke, it was dark. The moon cast its glow on the frosted window. I found myself staring at the ice crystals as they sprawled slowly across the glass. My hand cupped over my mouth as I let out a soft yawn. Although, I had retired early, I felt exhausted. The young master's eyes had haunted me as I image of them was etched deep, like one of the many wounds upon my flesh. Every time I was to blinked, there they were.

I shook my head, as though it would erase my memory of them and slide from the bed. The floor was like ice under my feet. I went to the window and unlatched it. Outside the trees swayed. The woods was sparkling with frost and resembled ocean waves as the wind blew through it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. A large creature weaved through the thick brush at an impossible speed. I leaned over the desk and squinted, though it made little difference to enhance my sight.

"What are you doing?"

The sound of the voice startled me. I turned. Mr. Jones was there, behind me. He moved me aside and shut the window, locking it. I saw his hand had been wrapped with gauze.

"I was airing out the room, Master."

I could not help, but, stare. Those crisp blue orbs shot me a look and I adverted my gaze.

"Go back to sleep." His voice was stern. "Curiosity of that place is wasted thoughts."

"Master, I am no longer tired. If possible, could I start my chores now?"

"No. If you are to be awake at this hour, I will be forced to watch you and I have no interest in housework. However, if you insist on being up, I can find ways in which you can entertain me."

I took a moment to look back at the messed bed. Sleep was the last thing on my mind.

"What would you have me do, Master?"

His mouth upturned into a mischievous smile. He advanced closer and wrenched my chin up to meet his tempestuous eyes. The moon reflected in them.

"Act as a dog."

"A dog." I repeated his words, lost. "You want me to pretend I am a, dog?"

A firm hand clasped over my lips. My body went stiff.

"Dogs do not speak." He said in a whisper near my ear. I nodded and he unmuzzled me. "Good. Crawl around on all fours."

In silence I went to my knees, humiliated. The floor numbed my legs.

"Come." The young master ordered, leading me out the door and down the hall. We went into a large room. A fire crackled in the hearth. The dim embers danced about the walls. "Sit on the bed."

I did as told. He reached over the backside of an armchair, retrieving a violin. It was a deep mahogany and worn with age. A leafless tree was engraved on its underside painted in gold. However, my eyes caught something strange. This violin did not have a spiraled neck, in its stead was a craving of a bird. Its wings were spread as if it was about to take flight.

"This is my mother's violin." He said bringing the instrument to his chin. "Beautiful, no? It was hand carved in Austria." The bow grazed the strings, screeching loudly. I winced at the sound. It hurt to listen. The young master laughed and took a seat next to me. The violin dangled between his legs. "I assume you thought I could play."

"I-"

"Ah, you are a dog, remember?"

Exhaling, I held out an open palm to him.

"Bark."

He flashed a grin and handed me the violin. Though I did not know where I had learned, I had a mastery of most musical instruments. Mellow cords emitted as I played a song with no name. It was out of tune, but, I managed to produce something pleasing to the ear.

"Amazing." Mr. Jones said, impressed. "Where did you learn to play so well?"

I returned the violin to him.

"That I do not know." Said I. "There is allot about my past I cannot remember."

Next he was on top of me, pinning me down on the mattress. "You must teach me." He peered down at me with an eager smile. It seemed he had forgotten that I suppose to be acting as a dog.

"I will, if you answer me this."

"What?"

"Why are you so wary of the woods?"

The mood became suddenly sullen. His face went somber in an instant and it made me uneasy. He lifted his fist. I feared the man would strike me, shutting my eyes, but, nothing came.

"I will tell, but, only if you tell me of the scars." The young master itched his head. "That is a fair trade."

"I have no memory of it." It was the truth.

"Were you attacked by an animal or beaten as a prisoner of war?" He asked. "Did you fight off an army whilst protecting your love from harm?" The questions were childish, I could not hold my laughter.

"With all seriousness, I do not know."

He groaned disappointedly.

"What if I were to hit you in the head?" His stated as though it was genius. "I read in a book once of someone who regained thoughts like that."

"WHAT? N-no master, I think that would do more harm than good."

"Then, I cannot tell of the woods."

He got off me and went to put back the violin. His body tensed as though the motion had pained him. I caught the glimpse of a bandage wrapped up to his shoulder, the same arm I had seen the gauzed hand.

"Did you get hurt?" I asked, not thinking to address him properly.

It went quiet. I had carelessly soured the mood.

"Go." He growled dangerously, sitting to face the fire.

"Master, I-"

"I said leave me, DOG!"

The look he gave was filled with hatred, but, I had a feeling it was not directed towards me.

"Yes, master."

_So, we were back to that._

I stood, bowed, then left.

The morning came quickly after that. I dressed and went down to make the Master his breakfast. There was not much in the kitchen to use. I settled on porridge with apple and sugar, then took it upstairs to his room.

"Master, your breakfast." I announced, knocking before going inside.

He was still sleeping. Curled up into his covers half hanging off the bed. In the night I had not noticed the mounds of dirtied clothes that littered the floor.

"Master!" I spoke again. This time the man went into a panic, falling from the mattress into a pile of soiled clothing.

"You-" He started, but then saw the food tray. "What did you make?"

"Breakfast porridge." Said I, placing the tray on the cluttered table next to the armchair that held the violin. "Let me help you dress."

"Make it quick, I am starved."

The Master stood, arms up, waiting for my assistance. I went to aid him, pulling off the filthy shirt. I avoided looking at the bandages, instead, I focused on the stubborn buttons of his trousers. They fell to the floor and he moved me to one side going for the tray. He took a messy bite of the porridge. It dripped, sliding down his bare chest.

"I should bathe, it has been awhile." His words were muffled with food. Some dribbled from the corner of his mouth down his neck. The way he ate was repulsive.

"Yes, Master, I will call you when it is drawn."

I went to do as I had said. The bathroom was large with a floor of elaborate tile. Water gushed out of the gold colored spicket filling the large round tub. I shut off the stream and checked the temperature. It was nice and warm making me slightly jealous it was not for myself. The young master entered, it caused me to jolt.

"You will wash me, servant." He said, getting it. Water spilled out soaking my boots.

"Yes, Master." I sighed and took the sponge in my hand. "Lift your arm."

"You are going to do it like that?" His eyebrow was cocked.

"I am. What other way is there, Master?"

"Get in."

"Master, I rather not." Said I, thinking of my scars. Though, a bath did sound pleasant. "Besides, the tub will not hold us both."

"Was that a challenge?"

He leaned out and tugged me close. His smirk was devious in nature. What was it that he was thinking?

"N-no." I swallowed.

Pale flush lips loomed into close proximity of my ear. Alarmed by this I pulled back, managing to escape his clutch, but, slipped in the process. I dropped backwards into the full tub and onto Mr. Jones, showering the room.

"This, I think means I win." The Master was cradling me. One of his hands supported my head. My feet still dangled over the edge of the oversized porcelain basin. He was untying my laces. "Do not be shy, dunce, I have already seen you in your entirety."

I flushed as he pulled my boots off. My boundaries had been crossed. The man had no filter nor sense of personal space. Lost for the words to say, I sat across his lap, bewildered. I was quiet, til, he found my waist band.

"STOP." I exclaimed, smacking him cross the cheek.

There was a pause, then, pain. He had hold of my groan. Crushing it in his fist, unmercifully. My lips parted, but, no cry came.

"That hurt." He grunted. "I was sharing my bath."

"Sorry, l-let go Master, please."

I jerked at his grasp, throwing back my head. It dropped under the water and I panicked. As I began to cough, he let go. My shirt, soaked through, had run off my shoulder. He sat me up to sit.

"It is because of the scars." The young master concluded. He must had seen the mark near my collar, I moved my hand to hide it. "I had not thought of them before." Between my legs, it throbbed. "I apologize if you are unable to have children now."

Wet hair clung to my forehead and I wiped it to rest behind my ear. I sat in the tub fully clothed. My legs were huddled to me, facing a naked man I hardly knew. He hunched over and stared at me. The erratic behavior was beginning to make me paranoid. I knew now why Arthur had searched for someone overseas to take up as his housekeeper. They could not quit so easily. To afford the boat fare to return home, they would have no choice but to work til they saved enough to do so.

"You are afraid of me now?" He grumbled. "I am sure you will tell Arthur when he returns that I have acted poorly." His eyes continued to watch me close.

"Huh, I. . ."

"If you do and he never comes back." His voice spoke uneasily. "I will go mad with loneliness. Please, do not tell him of this. Despite my ways, I do not want to be alone."

I nodded and was compelled to pat the top of the feral man's head. His ashy hair was soft against my hand, much more than my own.

"I will not." I spoke gently.

He flashed his vivid eyes to mine and gave a reserved grin, that sped up my heart. I wanted nothing more than that bewitching gaze upon me and me alone.


	3. Chapter 3

It was my second day as a housekeeper in America. My employer, Master Alfred Fredrick Jones of Abigail May Manor, had not left my side since I had changed my clothing. He sat on the floor, eating an apple as I dusted an old portrait. It was beginning to make me nervous. The doorbell sounded and I hurried to answer it, thankful to escape his unwavering stare.

Three women stood at the door. All of them had tightly laced corsets. Their breasts spilled over the ruffled tops that peeked out from underneath winter cloaks.

"Good afternoon, may I help you?" I said, looking at them blankly.

"You must be the new servant." One of the woman said slyly, she removed her emerald hood. Soft brown curls framed her face. "I am Elizabeth. These are my brothel sisters, Ruth and Mabel." She introduced. The two behind her were identical. They both dressed alike in deep blue and wore their blonde locks in braids. "We have an appointment with Mr. Alfred F. Jones."

"My ladies!" Came the young Master's voice. "I had nearly forgotten about your visit."

"How could you forget about us?" The brunette said, caressing Mr. Jones' chest. Her lips were painted red. In silence the twins followed her inside, both wrapping their arms around his waist. They were a mirror image of one another's movements. "If he is to join, it will cost double."

"No." He answered sharply.

I found myself surprise he had not teased me. His face was reddened. The woman, Elizabeth, looked to me. Her eyes scanned up my figure and she upturned her nose.

"We missed you." The twins said together in monotone.

"Did you prepare the special room?" Asked Elizabeth, twirling one of her curls.

The Master planted a kiss on the prostitute's cheek, snickering.

"Of course." He said. "Shall we start from where we left off last week?"

They ascended up the staircase and I went back to my chores, however, it was not long before the sound of moaning made me uncomfortable. I decided to head to the garden to trim the hedges. A thin layer of snow lined the ground. It was cold. I tucked my scarf tighter around my neck and traveled out the kitchen door.

The yard tools I assumed were in the barn. Cautious of ice, I went down the covered path. It took some effort to push open the barn door. Inside, it was dark. Hay was scattered about the floor and it smelled of manurer. I could make out tools hanging from hooks on the far end next to a boarded window. The barn had empty pens meant for horses on either side. It seemed it had been unused for quit awhile. An old saddle hung from one of the stables. I touched the worn leather gently. Around its edge it was engraved, however, I could not make out the words.

"A man servant. Does he truly believe, this, will stop me?"

A man's voice came from the shadows. I backed up against the wooden gate of a stable. Above me, a large figure was perched atop the loft. My heart pounded in my chest.

"Th-this property belongs to the master of Abigail May Manor." Said I.

He hopped down to land directly in front of me. His body was engulf in a dark feathered cloak. Before I could cry out for help, a sword had been drawn and placed to my chest.

"Is that so?" His eye shone yellow under his hood. "Your name?"

My body was frozen to the spot.

"I-I am A-Alfred F. Jones' housekeeper, Toris Laurinaitis."

"Mr. Laurinaitis, I will give you this. If you stay in this place, I will kill you." He traced across my neck with a cold gloved finger. "Usually, I do not give such warnings."

I nodded. "I am thankful and will take what you say into consideration."

The man chuckled.

"No cry for help?"

"That does not seem to be the wisest decision with steel placed to ones heart."

"True." He sheathed his sword. The man hissed and held his side as though in pain. "You are very different from the usual."

"Are you wounded?'

"A wound of the flesh is incomparable to what pains me the most."

The man took a step back and fell to his knee. His hood slipped from him, exposing his half masked face. It was decorated in slick black feathers that shone the deepest of royal blue in the light. I assumed it was made from that of a crow. Embedded in the eye sockets were two stained glass lenses that made the wearer appear to have yellow eyes.

"S-sir, let me assist you." I swallowed and bent down next to him. If there was blood, I would be little help.

"What does a housekeeper know of first aid?" He glared at me coldly.

I did not know how to answer.

"Please."

Hesitantly, he undid the buckles of his cloak and let it slide off. His dress was of all black and close fit to his body. I could make out the toned muscle underneath. He had dark hair that curled slightly and a strong smell. It was not an unpleasant oder, but, a familiar one I could not place.

"I fell from my horse." The man explained rolling up his blouse. A large purple bruise covered his side. I was relieved the skin was not broken. "It feels as though I broke something."

"There are bandages at the house, I will fetch them." Said I. "Try to stay still."

I hurried through the yard and through the kitchen door. A vast supply of bandages were in the cupboard. I had discovered them while cleaning. Making haste, I snatched a few and made my way back to the barn. However, when I returned the man had gone. Only a single black feather remained laying atop the trampled hay. I bent down and twirled it between my fingers. Like oil, it shined an array of colors in the sun. Both confused and concerned, I left the bandages then went back to the mansion.

My cheeks buzzed from the cold as I entered. The sounds from second floor had ceased. I removed my coat and went to tend to the fire in the living quarters.

There was a loud crash, then, the patter of feet on the stairs. I hurried into the next room. I caught a glimpse of the front door closing.

"Master Jones?" I called from the base of the steps. No answer came. Concerned, I rushed up the staircase. "Master Jones?" A large crack webbed the wall. It lead down the hall to the Master's room. I knocked and tried the knob. The door had been locked.

"Stay away." The young Master said, his voice was gruff. I dropped my head and ran a hand through my hair. Just then, something landed on my shoulder. I brushed it off and watched as a light brown feather floated gently to the rug.

"Master." I spoke soft. "I thought I a saw someone in the garden."

The door clicked open and the Master looked out at me. His eyes danced like fire.

"You think?"

"Y-yes, well, I, only saw out the corner of my eye." I said, avoided his gaze. "I cannot be sure of what, if anything, was there."

He reached out and pulled me inside. The button of my shirt came free, skidding across the floor. His bedspread was in tatters around the room. It looked as though an animal had mistaken it as its toy, or rather prey.

"Did you see someone, or not?"

"Yes." I said soft. "I-I did."

"Was it human?" The master asked. I noticed the bandages. His body was engulfed in them, nearly entirely now. "I asked you a question!" He threw me onto the torn mattress.

"He was covered with a mask and cloak!" I exclaimed, crawling back til the bed ended. My heart was pounding so hard, it hurt.

"Funny how easily you remember something your not sure you saw." He leaned against one of the posts of the bed, glaring. "Alluring little sneak."


	4. Chapter 4

Those eyes felt as though they were tearing me to shreds. He moved his hand up the high bed post and flexed his hand. His nails dug into the varnished wood.

"Do you know why I lose house keepers so quickly?" Asked the young master, clawing down the frame. Deep gouges trailed his fingers.

I shook my head.

He began to unravel the bandage at his wrist. Underneath the flesh appeared to have been rubbed raw. It was red and swollen, like a rash.

"Ugly, isn't it?"

Master Jones bent down and picked up one of the many feathers scattered over the bed. It was the same auburn color as the one that had landed on my shoulder.

"Tell me, do you believe in curses?" He crushed the feather in his hand.

"I have never really thought about it." I said honestly.

He laughed and sat on the edge of the mattress. His back was turned to me. It was bandaged thickly. I lingered closer, inspecting it curiously.

"Stay away." Master Jones growled.

I jumped, drawing myself back.

"Leave me, retire to your quarters." The young master sighed, resting his head on the damaged bed post. "No matter what, stay put tonight. I do not need wandering eyes, understand?"

"Yes Master." I whispered, shakily making my way to the door. A warm droplet hit my cheek. I wiped it aside and looked down at my hand. Blood stained my fingers, my body seized. My knees gave and I collapsed to the wood floor.

"Toris!" Alfred had hurried to my side, he shook me by the arm. "Toris, are you okay?"

I mumbled words, but, none made any sense. My eyes fluttered, unable to focus. Finally, I gave up on consciousness and everything faded to dark.

A sharp pain shot through my neck as I came to. My vision, blurry, could make out a large figure hovering over me.

"Ow." I grumbled.

"Hush, it was only a pinch."

I rubbed my eyes and blinked a few times. Alfred's blue orbs shone in the flame of a nearby candle. I was lying on my bed, Alfred sat in a chair next to me.

"Master, what happened?"

"You passed out."

Suddenly, I remembered.

"There was blood." I sat up and looked at my hands. They were clean. "I-it fell from the ceiling."

"Blood?" The young master snorted. "Where?"

"In your room."

He laughed.

"Why would there be blood in my room? Besides, you never came to my quarters." Said the master, folding his arms. His blouse was buttoned up to the neck and he wore royal blue satin gloves. Considering his usual slobbish look, it was strange. "I found you on the stairs."

The smile that he wore looked fabricated, but, I found it unwise to press the issue further. If it had been blood, then, who had it belonged? In any case, I was far too weary to make any assumptions.

"I apologize for any trouble I caused, Master."

"Yes, you are trouble." The young master's eyes narrowed at me. I lowered mine, staring at the flower pattern on the bedspread. A smooth hand wretched my chin. I looked at him, wide-eyed. "Look at me when I speak to you." His un-trimmed nails could be felt through the thin fabric of his gloves. My fear resurface.

"Y-yes, Master."

"Good boy." He grinned and sniffed my nape, exhaling in uneven breaths."I have a carriage coming tomorrow at dawn. I would like you to go to town and pick up a few things. I will have a list ready for you before it arrives. Do not worry about money, just give my name and it will be enough."

"Master, are you alright?"

"Yes." His fingers trembled as he moved them away. "Why do you ask?"

"No particular reason, Master." I sighed.

Mr. Jones, pushed me back down onto my pillow.

"Now, sleep." He commanded. His hand slowly smoothed out the wrinkles of the blanket that covered me.

I swallowed and nodded.

The young master stood, taking the candle. It flickered over his sullen face.

"Goodnight, Master."

He nodded to me and left, closing the door.

I laid on my pillow, where he had left me. The warmth of his hand could still be felt on my chest where he had pressed me down.

"What is it he is hiding?" I whispered to myself.

The night was long and I had trouble sleeping. I was already awake and dressed before the sun arose over the tree tops.

My reflection caught my attention in the mirror as I was to leave. Deep circles ran under my puffy eyes. I looked and felt exhausted. Sighing, I left the room. Posted on my door was the list Mr. Jones had promised. I pocketed it and hurried down the stairs, stopping only to grab my coat, before walking out to the awaiting carriage. A short, stout man opened the door. He had a curled mustache and a crooked grin.

"Thank you." I said, smiling in return and getting in. The seats were of worn red velvet and they had a musky smell.

I peered out the window at the manor as we rode away towards town. It did not take long for it to disappear behind the thick woods. I rested my head back and shut my eyes, desolving into the sounds and movement of the carriage.

It was not until the driver opened the door, that I noticed we had arrived in the village square. I got out. The street with packed with people. I retrieved my list from my pocket and hurried through the crowd. The items on the list were mostly food, which were easy enough to find.

I came to a small shop at the corner of the street. A faded green sign hung above the door that read, "William's Bookshop'. I assumed it was the shop the Master's cousin.

Curiously, I went in. A little bell dangling from the hinge, chimed as I entered. Inside was a small counter with an assortment of quills, ink, and parchment behind the glass and several rows of tall shelves lined the floor. A man stood on a ladder, he looked over at me and smiled warmly. Deep mauve eyes shone down at me from overtop a pair of spectacles. He had a striking resemblance to the young master.

"Welcome, let me know if you need anything." He greeted, his voice soft.

He had blonde hair, the same as Mr. Jones, though, it had a slight curl and was able to be pulled back into a ponytail. Two young girls were close by, they looked to me and giggled. I slipped down the next aisle, peeking through the small space overtop the books on a shelf.

"Have you heard about the Dark Knight?" I heard one of the girls ask. "They say he is a handsome man in black who wears a mask. He rides around in the woods and saves girls from the Vulture."

"Oh?" Chuckled the man.

"I hear he rides a feathered black horse that comes out of the river. He takes the village girls as tribute to ride it." Said the other girl. "He's a monster, just like the Vulture!"

"Sounds like a Kelpie." Said the shop owner, he climbed down the ladder with a few books tucked under his arm.

"Yes, I remember hearing of those!"

"You are so smart Mr. Williams."

"Well, only when it comes to what I have read." He said, handing one of the books to the girls. "This entire book is about Kelpies and simular mythical creatures, if you would like to give it a read?"

The taller of the two took it, eagerly.

"How much?"

"Its on the house." Said the shopkeeper, shrugging. He had thick shoulders. "No-one buys those type of books."

"Thank you!" She squealed.

"You are very welcome."

"Um...also, how is your cousin? I have not seen Mr. Jones for a long time." Asked the smaller girl, cheeks flushed. "Is he alright?"

"Yes. His brother stopped in a few days ago." He said, tying the apron around his waist taut. "He is the same as always."

"Alfred F. Jones is so incredibly handsome, and he is rich!" Swooned the other girl. She hugged the book to her chest. "So mysterious too."

"I heard he hired a new housekeeper."

"Wonder how long she will last."

"Actually, a man was hired." Mr. Williams eyes found mine.

I jumped back, bumping into the shelf behind me. A couple of the books fell off onto the floor. Had he known I was eavesdropping the entire time? I quickly bent down and picked up what I had knocked off.

"A man?" Sneered the girl.

"Weird."

They headed for the exit.

"Goodbye, have a pleasant day!" Mr. Williams called after them. They left. The bell jingled softly as it shut.

Footsteps approached me. I reared around. In front of me he stood, a kind smile spread cross his face. He was taller than Master Jones, however, I found him far less intimidating.

"Hello. Can I help you find something?" He asked.

"I-I am the housekeeper for Abigail May Manor, Master Jones requested some things from your shop." I said, swallowing.

"My name is Matthew Williams, I am his cousin. He asked for something from this shop?" He raised a brow and chuckled. "I am surprised he remembered I had one. What is it he needs?"

I shifted my eyes to the vials of ink, then back to him.

"Ink."

"I hope my cousin is not giving you trouble." sighed and went behind the counter, placing a vial of ink on top. "He has. . .issues."

"I do not wish to pry, but, does Alfred have an allergy?"

"I do not believe so." He wiped his glasses off on his sleeve. "Why is it you ask?"

"Well, I cook his meals. I did not want to make him sick."

"Ah, I see." The man nodded. "Well, I lived with him for a few years. He ate everything just fine then, too much."

"You lived with him before?"

"Yes, as a child when my mother was sickly. She was an only parent. My father was a Frenchman who left before I was born and Alfred's mother was her only family. They were sisters, twins actually. That is why Alfred and myself look so simular." He explained. "Just after I returned to my mother, Alfred's parents mysteriously died. Not even their corpses were recovered. From there, Arthur took over as his guardian."

"It must have been hard on him."

"Yes. I believe he still has not recovered from it. After Arthur left for London, he fired every servant at the manor and refuses to have more than one working for him at a time. Everyone who works for him quits, because of his erratic behavior."

"Ah, well, it is almost noon. Master Jones will be wondering about his meal." I said, forcing a smile. I took the vial and placed it in my pocket. "Thank you for the ink and explaining things."

"Oh no, thank you." Mr. Williams said waving as I left. "Have a nice day, Mr. Laurinaitis."


	5. Chapter 5

The weather had taken a turn for the worse. Luckily, I arrived back at the manor before the storm. I placed my outer wear on the rack and carried the groceries to the kitchen. A chilled finger ran cross the back of my neck.

"Hello."

I dropped my sack to the floor and clung to the counter. Alfred appeared at my side. He was biting his lip, forcing back a smile.

"Master." I said, relieved. My heart continued to race in my chest. "Would you like anything particular to eat?" I bent down to recollect the food I had dropped.

He was still dressed in his strange attire. Effortlessly, he picked me up and sat me upon the counter top. His face neared mine. I looked at him blankly, squeezing the apple in my hands tightly.

"What if I said, you?" The young master spoke in a serious tone. "What would you say to that?"

My checks went red.

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me." Jones lowered his head, but, kept his eyes fixed. He took a bite from the apple in my hands and chewed slowly. "I want you." A piece escaped his mouth and ran down his lip.

"Please, let me make you something." I begged, pushing upon his shoulders. He neared closer, his hand slipping behind my head to keep me from pulling back. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Please master, please, stop." I shut my eyes.

Warm, chapped lips meet mine. His other arm wrapped around me, forcing our bodies to press together. The young Master's tongue licked at the entrance to my mouth. I locked my jaw and kept my lips firmly together.

"Open up Toris." He whispered. His leg rubbed against my crotch.

"Ah!" I exclaimed, startled.

It was enough time for Mr. Jones to slip himself inside. His tongue swirled over my tasted like a strong apple cider as he creeped farther to the back of my throat. My eyes began to water, I could not breathe. I panicked, thrashing. I managed to move my head to one side and gasped. Drool had found its way down my chin.

"Delicious."

The master chuckled and produced a cheeky drunken smile.

"Master, please, release me." I adverted my eyes, humiliated. "I do not want this."

"Just for now, call me Alfred." He cooed, then latched himself onto my neck. His lips massaged the spot, sucking my sensitive nape.

I went still, my mind drifting off. My heart pounded in my chest, becoming sinfully aroused.

"Alfred." I said soft, in an airy whisper.

He undid my zipper, exposing my engorged member.

"I am still hungry." Said Alfred, licking at the dark spot he had made on my neck. "Should I devour you here or take you to my special room?" He took hold of me.

I could not speak, pulsating in his hand.

"I think the room is needed." Laughed my master. "You are about to burst, we need to slow you down. I want to savor you slowly."

He lifted me from the counter and threw me over his broad shoulder. His hand stayed wrapped around my erection. If it had not been for the pressure he was applying, I would have ejaculated.

I was taken upstairs into a dimly lit room. Strange devices hung from the walls on hooks and furniture equipped with shackles filled the room. He sat me down on the bed and secured my ankle with a thick chain.

"So my meal does not escape." Alfred explained, planting a sloppy kiss on my cheek. "You need this too." He said, pulling out a metal object. I shivered from the cold surface, as he slipped the small cage-like item onto my private and locked it shut. It forced my erect penis downwards into a flaccid position.

"M-my clothes, I do not want them to get dirty."

Alfred's face tensed and then relaxed. He leaned on top of me pushing me down on the bed. He removed one of his silk gloves. His nails were black and curved into a sharp point, like talons.

"I like to tear into my prey."

Jones slashed across my chest, tearing open my shirt. My heart raced and my eyes widened. Droplets of blood oozed from the scratches he had made. He lapped at them greedily.

"What are you doing?" I asked, attempting to crawl away. "Please, get off me, MONSTER!"

He growled angerly, striking my face. It stung. Warmth trickled down my face and stained the silk sheet a deep rogue. I looked up at him terror stricken. His eyes gleamed down at me, milky and glazed over. He tore off his shirt and the bandages.

I gasped.

His body was wrinkled and sparsely covered in deep brown feathers. Two large feathered appendages outstretched from his back. They expanded past the edges of the bed. He smiled maniacally, teeth the same as a bear. The jingle of his belt made my heart skip. He was undoing his pants.

The young masters member was much larger than my own and much bigger than I had remembered. Not that I paid any attention to his privates when we had shared a bath. He quickly flipped me over, pressing my face into the cover.

There came the sound of tearing fabric. My backside was exposed to the open air and then, I was rammed into. I screamed, muffled by the comforter. His member got harder.

"Yes, scream!" He grunted, moving in and out slowly. "I will make you beg me to eat you."

He kept going, switching to fast then back to slow. My throat became too sore to scream and my body numb. I just laid there as he thrusted into me. He slide out, still hard and turned me back over to look at me. I was dazed, staring past him.

My hair was crusted to the side of my face, eyes swollen from tears.

"Are you broken?" The beast asked me, digging his claws into my face. They ran through my cheek and blood spilled into my mouth. He was smiling. I felt something enter me again, smaller than before. It was forced in deep, then flexed, attaching itself to my insides. "I will devour you from inside, out."

I begged him with my eyes, mouthing the word stop. He slowly pulled, clawing the wall of my rectum.

"Alfred." I wheezed, spitting blood.

His expression became less intense. I reached up and pet his soft hair. The wings from his back folded back into his body and his eyes cleared.

"My God." He said. His breathe was uneasy, tears swelling in his eyes. "Toris, what am I doing? What have I done to you?"

Carefully he removed his bloodied hand from me and hugged my body close.

"I am sorry." Alfred trembled, holding me. He rocked us back and forth, sobbing. "Do not die. Please, I am sorry, I am so sorry. Please, please...please."


	6. Chapter 6

I was in a classroom. Child sized desks were lined in rows in front of me. My body moved without my control, shifting through a pile of sheet music on a much larger desk. Behind me was a dusty marked up chalk board with hand written scores. I selected one of the pages and looked it over, smiling. On the bottom edge was a crudely drawn picture of two people holding hands. I made out the taller one to be myself.

"Toris!" Cried a small child. She ran into the room, her blonde hair done up in pigtails. One was slightly higher than the other, tied with blue ribbons that matched her dress. Teary grey eyes shone up at me. I felt my heart sink in my chest.

"Emily. What is the matter?" I asked, concerned.

My response was automatic.

"The boys are in the garden and they are killing a crow!" The child pulled at the sleeve of my shirt. "You have to save him!"

She was English.

I hurried with the girl outside and around the school to a small garden. A group of five children were circled around a dying bird, kicking it unmercifully.

"Boys! Boys!" I called, pushing through the small crowed. "What are you doing?"

"Killing a pest. He keeps steeling food from the garden." One of the children, a boy with red hair and freckles said.

I went to my knees and gathered the crow into my hands. Its sore beaten body twitched, the poor thing was exhausted.

"That is not a good enough reason to kill, he did nothing but what would be expected. You all should be ashamed."

"I tried to stop them." Sniffled Emily. She rubbed at her eyes. "They pushed me down!"

"Is that true?" I questioned, standing.

My gaze went to the group of boys, they kept their heads down.

"We barely touched her Teacher! You know how clumsy she is." Mumbled another boy, the tallest. His brown hair was cropped to his head.

"A week detention for all of you. Now, go on home." My tone was firm.

The children groaned and dispersed.

"Is he going to die?" Whimpered Emily.

I frowned down at her and sighed.

"I do not know."

"You cannot let it die Toris! You just can't!" She pleaded, clinging to me. "Please, save him."

My hand rested on top of her head and she buried her face into my pant leg, sobbing.

"Hush, I will try my best." I said soft, then, bent down to her level. With my thumb, I wiped away her tears. "I am proud of you for defending him, that was very brave. If something like this ever happens again, come to me first. Alright?"

The girl nodded.

"Good girl." I twirled a curl of her hair betwixt my fingers and plated a gentle kiss upon her forehead. "Lets go home."

"And you say, you did not see what attacked?"

A voice spoke that did not belong.

"No, I did not see. I found him near the woods. He went to town early this morning and must have been attacked when he returned."

The girl, the school, the garden, and the bird, all faded away.

"I do not know of a creature that would do this to a human and not have the intention to kill."

"What are you trying to say?"

My lower body throbbed as I slowly opened my eyes. Two men were standing near me, talking to one another.

"Nothing. It is only that animals usually do not have intercourse with ones that are outside their species." The tallest said, shrugging his shoulders. He wore a vest and his sleeves were rolled past his elbows. A glare made by the candles flickered on the glass of his spectacles. I recognized him as the master's cousin, Matthew Williams.

"If you do not believe me, ask him when he wakes." Grumbled the other.

Alfred.

He was bundled in a large dark coat with a scarf and still wore gloves over his dark nails.

"Also, are you feeling alright?" Asked Mr. Williams, smiling."You look like your dressed for a blizzard. Shall I get you medicine as well?"

He moved his head, the glare disappearing. I could see his eyes, piercing. They were like daggers, clashing with the kind smile he wore.

"I am fine." Hissed Jones, sitting in the armchair near the fireplace. "A cold, that is all."

We were in Alfred's room. Matthew took the violin belonging to Alfred's mother and twisted a few of the tuning keys.

"I see." Williams said, plucking a cord.

"What are you doing?"

"I thought some music would lighten the mood." Matthew raised the bow and placed the instrument to his chin. "I have not played since your mother's passing. Aunt Abigail and I were very close,even more than my own mother. I miss her."

"I do not want to talk about mother." Alfred sneered, snatching away the violin. "When Toris awakens, I want you to leave."

Williams looked to me. His eyes fiery, but face calm.

"I will dispose of these." He said soft, picking up a pile of my ruined clothes. Something fell to the floor smashing onto the wood. A dark puddle formed, creeping across the floorboards.

The smell of ink hit my nose. My eyes widened. It was the same as that of the man from the barn.

"Klutz." Spat Master Jones.

"Sorry." Mister Williams apologized. "Do not worry. I have something that will clean it up." He bent down, taking a vial from his breast pocket. The contents was poured onto the mess and the black began to desolve. "I make it myself."

His eyes flashed back to mine, _taunting me with his smile._


End file.
